Step Into My Parlour…

I’m not your typical human who pins reality on faith, belief, or other intangible constructs of egoic habits that keep our meatsuits in perpetual states of ignorance and bondage.

But don’t confuse that statement with an inference I’m an arrogant, pseudo-bodhisattva who’s figured out everything Planet Insanity has to offer.

In the grand scheme of the Universe, I don’t know shit. And the real kicker is — the more I learn, the less I know. Whatta world.

In simpler terms, I’m a fucking moron — a junkie, a douchebag, an habitual asshole who wakes up each day thinking I’m one step closer to unravelling the mysteries of reality, only to have my next experience slap my sorry ass back to square one.

It’s tough finding answers wandering the streets of Planet Earth — mostly because 85 percent of its inhabitants aren’t willing, for even a fucking millisecond, to consider the wild and wacky questions an open-minded human might be asking about life, the Universe, and everything.

And that’s no surprise. Parents, elementary school education, and the fine, fine work of science and the media have eradicated most humans’ ability to think outside the box. Actually, that sentiment is somewhat inaccurate — the ability of humans to think outside the box has ever been intact, but their desire to do so has been largely decimated — trained out of existence incrementally with every moment spent staring into smartphones, tablets, and the larger than life telescreen.

Critical thinking is at an all-time low. And with the rampant censorship going on in the media — basically the muzzling of any entity questioning the “science” or efficacy of the insane decisions being made on a global level — well, things ain’t likely to get better anytime soon.

It doesn’t matter if you’re a well-respected virologist, a tenured university professor, or a long-haired hippie doing research in Mommy’s basement — if you dare inject into social media even the smallest amount of logic, reason, quantifiable data from “respected” sources, or any other insight blasphemous to the “official story,” be prepared to have your right to free speech revoked with extreme prejudice.

Fortunately, there are absolutely no examples in the history of humanity connecting totalitarian rule, censorship, and false flag events to economic destruction, genocide, and war.
[Insert massively sarcastic emoticon graphic here]

If Facebook believes in gagging anyone who has questions concerning the cycle threshold of a test never meant to diagnose infectious disease, so be it. It all worked out in the end for Mussolini, so let Zuckerberg have his fun.

But no matter how many times I tell myself there’s no value in stressing out over the psychotic agenda of the overlords pulling our strings, I still find myself praying to Jesus every night for a massive solar flare to take down the power grid.

Don’t get me wrong here. I ain’t some miserable fuck eagerly awaiting the Apocolypse in order to advance my spiritual agenda. I like electricity. I like heat. I like long-distance communication. I like writing crazy bullshit on my laptop. But nothing would make me happier than to witness the end of the informational stranglehold the corporate, technocratic psychopaths have on the human race. Nothing would make me happier than to witness humans communicate with one another face to face again — not through fucking memes, not through fucking texts, not through fucking status updates. Nothing would make me happier than one last, heartfelt conversation without a TV blaring in the background, and the interruption of multiple text summons.

I’m willing to bet if we spent the next 6 months with no access to social media, phones, newspapers, or the fucking Telescreen, we’d probably realize something profound about our towns and neighbourhoods — no one we know is sick, and no one we know is dying from invisible microbes spread by people who have absolutely no symptoms of ailment.

Humans become ill because they treat their bodies like shit. People are in hospitals because they eat garbage, they’re not active, they take poisonous drugs, and they live 24/7 in electromagnetically polluted, toxic environments. There’s a health pandemic going on alright, but it ain’t due to the fucking crown-headed graphic splayed over every digital screen on the planet — it’s caused by our lifestyles. If medical science truly gave a shit about our well-being, they’d be telling us to drop 10 pounds, stop eating processed food, go outside, breathe fresh air, hit the gym, and spend quality time with the ones we love.

Pretty sure their message is the exact opposite:

Stay home. Avoid humans. Do not go to the beach. Do not go to the park. Do not go to the gym. Wear an oxygen-depriving face covering, and stay 6 feet away from people at all times. Don’t bother implementing tried and true protocols to ramp up your immune system, just stay home on the couch and wait for us to inject you with an experimental drug that will never be as effective as the biological defence mechanism provided to you by God.

There’s a long-running joke about the 200-pound fuck who sidles up to the take-out counter at McPoison’s, to order 3 burgers, 2 large fries, 4 cherry pies, and a DIET coke.

In this day and age, you can pretty much replace diet coke with wearing a mask and gloves. If you’re not willing to alter your lifestyle away from processed food, sugary drinks, mind-numbing Hollywood movies, and a sedentary lifestyle, why in the fuck are bothering to put a mask on? A virus with a 98% recovery rate is the least of your worries.

It’s no accident the internet is known as the World Wide Web.

Because that’s exactly what it is…

… an elaborate, intricate creation of a hidden predator, looming in the shadows, patiently waiting to suck the life-force out of whatever it might ensnare.

And guess what, chief?

We’re the fucking flies.

Fuck, How Many Times I Gotta Get This Shit Thru Ya Thick Skull, MuthaTucka?

Divide and Conquer, Part 1: Excerpt From Original Sin

COVID-1984 Douchebag Test

We all want to be loved, right?

Of course.

How horrible would it be to one day find out your beloved personality quirks irritated the hell out of 98% of the people around you?

Pretty crushing, I’m sure.

No need to fret. The following test has been scientifically formulated to put you on the right path of social normality — simultaneously determining the 2 major factors that currently affect your life the most:

A.  Am I Respectful, CoronaSmart Human?

B.  Am I a Fucking Douchebag?

Go grab a pen and paper.

Read the following questions, and add 2 strokes each time you answer Yes/Correct. If you respond with Nay/Erroneous, only stroke once.

If you stroke more than 108 times during this quiz, you likely have a masturbation problem.

Let’s begin.

1. Do I wear a top-of-the-line surgical mask and disposable gloves when I drive in my car, all by my lonesome, to pick up a half-priced treadmill waiting for me at the Canadian Tire curbside pickup, committed to shed the 30 pounds I’ve gained during lockdown while watching Netflix and boredom-eating?

2. Do I feel guilty walking 2 feet down a supermarket aisle to grab a jar of Mushroom Ragu, knowing I’m in clear violation of a decaying one-way sticker on the floor?

3. When someone sneezes, is my go-to comment: “Ooh, COVID, hahaha!”

4. Do I elbow-bump people instead of shaking hands?

5. Do I apply hand-sanitizer after masturbating in the shower?

6. Do I routinely purchase meat products that contain mechanically-separated pork, chicken, or turkey?

7. Do I step off the sidewalk curb to avoid being within 6 feet of some diseased douchebag motherfucker gleefully walking their yappy, piece-of-shit micro-dog?

8. Have I ever referred to Game of Thrones as GOT?

9. Have I ever refused a family member to visit my domicile because a guinea pig might count as the 5th in my household?

10. Have I ever said to anyone: “Hey dude, wanna binge-watch season two of Felicity?”

11. Have I ever gone down a playground slide in the dark, possibly while drunk, and suffered near decapitation because some COVID-fearing-fuckface wrapped a piece of orange fencing around the middle of the apparatus to deter public usage?

12. Have I ever been hit with a bag of bread because I encroached within 6 feet of a ninety-year-old fossil at Giant Tiger who was bulk-buying toilet paper, pasta, and slices of Wonder?

13. Do I realize “no-contact pick-up” doesn’t mean jack-shit if a 48-year-old cook in the kitchen rubs his balls religiously before slapping each burger on the grill?

14. Do I wear a cloth mask all day at work because I fear germs, then go home and suck my husband’s cock?

15. Am I secretly aroused by the smell of hand-sanitizer?

16. Have I wiped my bum in the last 3 months with toilet paper I bought because it was “on sale?”

16. Have I refused to go back to work because I fear “unsafe” conditions, knowing I make waaaay better money on CERB kickbacks?

17. Have I been part of a recent demonstration to show the world Black Lives Matter, while ignoring my previous mantra of, “Staying Home Saves Lives?”

18. Do I feel homophobic when my girlfriend sticks a finger up my ass?

19. Do I have a sign on my front lawn saying “I support front-line workers,” ignorant of the fact nurses are being laid off in droves because hospitals are empty?

20. Did I secretly hang a noose in Bubba Wallace’s garage?

Okay, nice work. Your test is now complete.

Determining Your Score

Spend a moment to tally your strokes, then click here to uncover your status:


Fun in the Madhouse

Okay, so the motherfuckers finally closed my little gym. Considering I’ve never been in the room with more than 3 people working out at a time, I can’t for the life of me figure out how this helps curtail the spread of a disease that absolutely no one seems to have in this stupid, paranoid, shithole town.

With that meaningless closure, I’m now left with nary an outlet from the confines of my shabby hovel, the place where my roommate is imprisoned as well, already stir-crazy from boredom.

Although I’ve asked him roughly 43,000 times to never mention the news or media again, he just can’t help himself when another absurd headline pings his phone.

Continue reading Fun in the Madhouse

Fuck You Society

I find venting to be a healthy thing. Instead of letting emotional toxins fester in the mind, heart and soul, you let ’em loose, be done with them, then move on to find solutions. Right now I have so much scathing shit I want to pump out, I don’t know where to fucking start.

But mulling it over in my head, I realize maybe it’s pointless.

Continue reading Fuck You Society